Hushed Willows den som ler, varer.

mayhaps she'd have jumped, if not for her having long grown accustomed to maj's antics. 

the owl materialized from overhead, swooping to land in a powerful crouch just before the northron's bemused features with her speckled wings spread. clutched in the bird's talons, the already cooling body of a winter-coated ermine. 

"ikke verst," the girl rasped softly as she straightened, offering a tip of her pale crown and a vague shrug of her shoulders in commendation of her companion's skills. "jeg får frokost, ja?" 

the spearwife knew well that the nightbird did not completely understand the tactfully woven, woolen strands of the native tongue she offered on occasion. but the filcher understood enough. 

with a wispy chirp of a hoot, the snowy owl prodded the ermine betwixt them and bent to shear at it with her sharp beak. gunhild joined her after a moment, taking her fair share of the steaming innards. 

licking her bloodstained chops clean, her head raised to level the dim forest around them with guarded sapphire  - certain she'd heard the crunch of at least one footstep. 

she watched on calmly as the autumn girl melted from the woodwork, cloaked in cinnamons and nutmegs. wrapped in earthen silks of loam and woodland with eyes like the chilled pools of meltwater found near the base of roskilde. 

there was no need for hostility - not on her end anyways. "hallo," gun rumbled in return, rising to her paws as maj took wing with a quick flap of her feathery appendages. the owl was not so keen on strangers, not unlike gun herself.

the skjoldpike felt better on her feet, facing the woman on equal standing. curious cerulean clashed against suspicious sky, the northron's head cocking slightly as she considered the southerner with a hint of fascination. 

"ja," she confirmed, ears pricking at the question. "we only stop for the night," she managed to iterate fairly well in her mother's second tongue. 

"this yours?" the nord asked lightly, only benign curiosity audible in her deep tones, as she gestured to the grove of willows with a small jerk of her muzzle. "is very nice."

translations:
"not bad."
"i will catch breakfast, yes?"
"hello."